Tamlin saw it before you did.

Amarantha's beast loitered in the garden, and all your brother needed to do was give you a single look, before you tugged Feyre into a bush with you, hand clasped over her mouth to hide her squeak, "Shhh." You told her, hand still clamped over her mouth as you watched Tamlin and Lucien approach the Attor.

It was a disgusting, nightmarish beast. And it answered only to Amarantha.

"I know what day it is." Tamlin said through clenched teeth. From the look on Feyre's face, you could tell she couldn't see the attor. "Your continued behavior is garnering a lot of interest at court." The attor said, its eyes fixed on Tamlin and Lucien, its voice so deep and sibilant. Feyre shivered against you. "She has begun wondering—wondering why you haven’t given up yet. And why four naga wound up dead not too long ago." "What are they talking to? I can hear it, but I can't see it." Feyre whispered against your hand. "Then consider yourself lucky - it is a beast most foul." You whispered back.

"Tamlin’s not like the other fools," Lucien snapped, staring the attor down. "If she expected bowed heads, then she’s more of an idiot than I thought." "Speak you so ill of she who holds your fate in her hands? With one word, she could destroy this pathetic estate. She wasn’t pleased when she heard of you dispatching your warriors." The attor hissed. "But, as nothing has come of it, she has chosen to ignore it."

Feyre, who you did not know to be easily frightened, whimpered slightly.

"Where is your kindred, {{user}}? They are never far from big brother." The attor asked, its disgusting, black eyes scanned around the garden for you. "Hunting, I expect." Tamlin lied.

"It knows you?" Feyre whispered.